


I understand

by LadyBaelish0179



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Short One Shot, Understanding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 05:35:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11662680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBaelish0179/pseuds/LadyBaelish0179
Summary: A short one shot in which Petyr and Sansa develop a mutual understanding of one another.





	I understand

     It was always cold in the North, but it had only gotten more bitter and unforgiving in the approaching winter. Only day ago had Jon left for Dragonstone with Ser Davos, leaving Sansa as Wardeness of the North in his absence. She couldn’t get Littlefinger’s expression out of her mind. He had once promised her the North would be hers, that _she_ would be the Wardeness. He looked entirely too pleased with himself, as if he had anything to do with Jon’s decision. She wasn’t aware of any sort of communication between the two of them, for she had warned Jon not to trust Littlefinger. Jon wasn’t one to listen to her, but she had thought he had taken at least that bit of information to heart.

     Looking out over the rapidly darkening courtyard, Sansa surveyed her small Kingdom. She wasn’t born to rule, but she had learned a great deal in the time she was away from Winterfell. Giving one final glance, she turned to make her way back to her chambers, to a warm fire and soft furs. That’s when she saw him out of the corner of her eye. Standing on the other side of the balcony was Petyr Baelish, goblet of wine in his hand, casually leaning against the railing and observing the bustling occurring beneath them. Suddenly, he raised his eyes and met hers. She didn’t look away, and he gave a small smirk, tilted his head and raised his glass to her before taking another drink. Sansa pulled her furs tighter around herself before making her way over to where he stood. He kept his eyes on her the entire time.

     “My Lady,” He drawled as she approached him. She settled next to him, once again looking back over the courtyard.

     “Lord Baelish,” Sansa replied.

     “What brings you to me this evening, Lady Sansa? I was under the impression you no longer enjoyed my company” He asked in a raspy tone. Honestly, Sansa wasn’t sure what made her venture over to him instead of retiring to her chambers for the night.

     “I once asked you if alcohol gave you courage. You never gave me an answer”. She watched his lips twitch into a smirk before he turned his back against the railing and took another sip.

     “No, it doesn’t.”

     “Why,” Sansa pressed. He sighed before answering.

     “As you might have noticed, I am not a warrior. I don’t fight with a sword, I fight with my mind. Alcohol dulls the mind, sweetling. It makes men feel brave and strong when they are not”.

     Sansa knew the tale, so she didn’t pry farther. They stood in amicable silence for a moment before Petyr spoke once again.

     “I understand how you feel. Perhaps not as strongly as you do, but nevertheless, I understand.” Sansa turned her head to regard him. She wasn’t entirely sure what he meant, and her confusion must have been apparent on her face because a moment later he elaborated.

     “The night that your mother’s engagement to Brandon Stark was announced, I indulged in far too much alcohol. More than enough to get my young body drunk, to the point of blacking out. At some point in the night, your great-uncle Brynden brought me to my chambers to avoid me making a fool of myself. Later still, your aunt Lysa made her way to my chambers and took advantage of the fact that i was overly drunk and couldn’t stop her. In my haze, however, i believed her to be your mother, and the next day, I challenged your uncle Brandon to a duel for Cat’s honor. You know how that ended,” Petyr laughed bitterly and took another sip of his wine.

     “I’m sorry that happened to you,” Sansa mumbled.

     “I can’t imagine the horrors you endured at the hands of Ramsay, nor will I ever be able to forgive myself for allowing the marriage to occur when I had little to no information on him. I never wanted anything horrible to happen to you.” Petyr said, keeping his eyes on the scene below them. He wasn’t sure he could meet her eyes, for he had never told a soul that story before. He wasn’t sure how she would react.

     “You can’t imagine what it was like. It was as if i died and went to hell, over and over, every day. But, I don’t believe that you knew about him. He’s dead and gone. He can’t hurt me now.” Sansa replied, straightening her back. Petyr sighed and they fell back into comfortable silence. Once again, Petyr was the one who broke it.

     “I love you, you know,” He said. The way he said it was almost absentmindedly, quiet and gentle. He had never said it in so many words, and Sansa was surprised that he was so blunt about it. She uncrossed her arms and placed the hand closest to him on his forearm.

     “I know,” She replied.


End file.
